Just Another Casanova

Chapter 6

Make the world reveal its secrets.

~Anonymous

Blaise Zabini's breathing was choppy and ragged, and it cut through the silence like a knife. Most of the restaurant's occupants had left, and even though it was still flittered with noise, in their corner of the world, you could hear a pin drop.

Hermione uncrossed her ankles and crossed them the other way--this time right over left--beneath her chair. Her even gaze with Blaise was wearing on her nerves, but she was waiting for him to speak. Her patience was rewarded several minutes later.

Shaking his slightly panicked look, he smirked and set his wine glass back on the table. "Indulge me," he commanded softly.

She smiled. "You went to Italy not only to run away from the war, but to search for something; probably more the latter than the former actually. When you couldn't find it there, you came back to England. You're looking for something to fill that void you've got. The sad part is, I don't think you even know what it is."

Instead of the faltering smile she'd hoped for, his grin widened. "So close, Granger, yet still so far. I know what I came back to England to look for."

She quirked an eyebrow in Slytherin fashion. "Really? And what would that be."

Though Hermione thought it was impossible, Zabini brought his face even closer to hers. Her breathing became heavier, but the determined look in her eyes remained.

Finally he answered, "You, of course."

Hermione choked on her spit and turned her head away from the table to try to regain herself. A moment later she sat back up, her hand resting lightly on her chest, her head shaking back in forth in silent protest.

Blaise's tone was anything but worried when he asked, "Are you alright?"

She narrowed her eyes at his happy expression. "Fine."

A moment passed. Hermione played with the rose stem and Blaise twisted his ring on his finger in circles.

"I think it'd be best now if I went home," she said meekly.

"You're the shrink," he insisted.

Her eyes snapped up to meet his. Her cheeks heated up and she felt crowded and angry all of a sudden. Her voice was a bit more stern than usual when she whispered, "Stop. Just stop doing that. Say what you really want for once, Zabini. What are you afraid of?"

He hesitated hardly a moment. "I fear no colors."

Hermione rolled her eyes and stood, leaving the rose on the table. "Just remember, Zabini, the character that quoted that was a fool." *

Turning on her heel, she walked to the door and exited without even turning back. Blaise stood, brushing off his shirt and straightening his belt. He tossed some coins onto the table where they clattered hauntingly. With one longing look at the rose, he turned and left too. All that remained was a white tablecloth, two folded, dirty napkins, and a forgotten, crimson, overly used, symbol of love.

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No matter how Hermione looked at it, there's no way the situation could've been worse. She'd been in a lot of awkward situations before--hell, she'd been through a war--but in all her experiences, she still sat, mouth agape at the sight of the tall, slender, dark brown-haired Italian before her.

She had figured the first session with Zabini after their disastrous date would be uncomfortable. Needless to say, she hadn't been looking forward to it at all (in fact, she'd been loosing sleep from anxiety, not that she'd admit that). But, when Zabini entered and held the door behind him for the tan, olive-eyed, beautiful girl standing before her now, her mouth had fallen to its current position.

She stood, resting a few fingers on the edge of her desk for support and nodded for the pair to sit on the couch. Whispering, they headed towards it where they seated themselves both on the middle cushion, thigh to thigh.

Cautiously, Hermione waded over to her chair and sat straight-backed in it, crossing her legs uncoordinatedly underneath her. Faking a warm smile she simply greeted, "Morning."

Blaise nodded at her. "Dr. Granger," he stressed, mockingly, "this is Isabelle."

The girl smiled, flashing white, sickeningly straight teeth and offered her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Blaise has told me so much about you."

Hermione sighed at her seemingly perfect English. Has she no flaw? Extending her hand, she shook the woman's enthusiastically, afraid she'd break her if she shook too hard.

Coughing she replied, "He's told me a lot about you as well."

She nodded shyly. "Blaise likes to brag."

Her mouth closed, Hermione ran her tongue along her top teeth. "Yeah, he most certainly does."

Isabelle wrapped the arm she had recently extended to Hermione around the young man's arm, hugging him close. Blaise simply remained still, making no effort to encourage the girl, yet offering no comfort to Hermione.

Much of the session passed this way. Blaise didn't break his stare from Hermione, but Hermione shifted her eyes from the pair to the clock as Isabelle droned on about her wonderful, sweet Blaise and their times in Italy. When she realized the clock was never going to reach the hour, Hermione stood abruptly and headed for the door.

Once it clicked into place behind her, she started at a sprint down the hall, passing Lanette, startling her and ruffling her papers, and not stopping until she was on the stairs outside. She sat on the top step and put her head between her hands, taking deep, slow breaths. Not long after the door had closed behind her it opened again. Hermione didn't even bother to turn; those graceful, quiet steps could only belong to one person.

"Go away," she commanded softly, keeping her face buried in her arms.

Ignoring her request, he sat down beside her. "I take it you don't think too much of Isabelle?"

She scoffed. "You could say that." She brought her head up, her face red and flushed. "She's just so...prissy! I mean, goodness, Blaise, I know you're charming, but honestly, how did you woo a girl to that state?"

"Obviously you don't have much faith in my uncanny ability to attract and enthrall the opposite sex."

"Obviously."

"She's a good girl," he insisted.

"I can see that, Zabini. But honestly, you could do so much better." She looked out onto the street, sighing at the beautiful morning. She really wanted to be anywhere but here right now.

The wind blew his hair into his eyes, but couldn't cover up the small grin on his face. "It nearly sounds as if you're jealous, Granger."

"Oh, please, don't insult me so." Though she harrumphed, she continued to avoid his eyes.

He smiled small enough that she wouldn't see it. Scooting closer he pulled her face so she was looking at him. "You were right."

"Of course I was, but what about?"

He chuckled at her confidence. "I am a fool," he responded.

She nodded, a bit surprised at his admittance. "But, Isabelle...."

"Showed up on my doorstep. Being the kind-hearted man I am I couldn't turn her out."

Hermione allowed herself a small smile. But her mind was racing a mile a minute. Why was she even upset over this anyway? And why the hell was she allowing herself to be comforted by Blaise Zabini? Suddenly, and with a jolt, she pulled away from his touch.

"Do you really fear nothing? I don't believe that for the world." She was still looking away from him, her eyes welling slightly despite her protests. Snap out of it, Hermione!

Blaise tried to get her to look at him. "I do fear one thing."

She did. "What's that?"

"Loneliness."

"Is that why Isabelle's still here?" Hermione shifted her position so she was facing him, twisting her fingers in her hands.

"No. She's here to distract me from my other distraction--you."

"I highly doubt I'm that large of a distraction." A breeze blew abruptly, causing Hermione to shiver. Small goose bumps appeared on her arms and she glanced longingly at the brick building, knowing her room was always kept at a constant 18 degrees (Celsius).

"You amaze me," he remarked, snapping her from her daydream of warmth. "You encourage so many people to live life, that they're good people, all that rubbish; yet you can't even think a bit highly of yourself."

"Bollucks," she insisted, waving it off with her hand. "I have no problem admitting my perfections, thank you very much." She started counting on her fingers. "I'm smart, quick, good with people, a great friend, funny, responsible--"

"And boring," he added.

She gave him a small glare. "If I'm boring, then why am I such a distraction?"

He stood, offering a hand to help her up. Stubbornly, she pushed herself off the step and stood above him, enjoying the feeling of being slightly taller.

"That's something I have yet to figure out," he replied. At that moment, Isabelle burst through the door. Humming quietly to herself, she nearly skipped down the steps to Blaise, cuddling up against him again.

"Did I do something wrong, Miss Granger?" Isabelle asked innocently, her bottom lip sticking out in a permanent pout.

Hermione forced herself to shake her head. "No, I've just been under a lot of stress lately, needed a breath. It's been a hectic week." The brunette nodded as though she understood perfectly.

"Love," Blaise ordered quietly, "why don't you go ahead and floo over to the flat, I'll meet you there. I just need a few more words with my therapist." She nodded enthusiastically, obeying like a puppy. Pecking him on the cheek, she took off for the building at a jog, probably glad to be out of the cold, summer day.

Before Hermione had the chance to say anything, Blaise reached out and planted a light kiss on her lips. He pulled back, but remained at a close proximity.

"You can't just play games like this, Zabini. I will not be your pawn."

He didn't dare laugh at the accusation. "I don't expect you to."

"Listen, I've got enough on my plate, right now; why don't we just stick to a business relationship?"

"A lot on your plate, eh?" He couldn't resist a chuckle. "Hermione, you go home to an empty flat where you sometimes eat dinner. Your cat's your only companion while you read your precious love stories, not even daring to go outside. Finally, when you've finished the book, or the sun's dipped well below the horizon--whichever comes first--you head to bed...after a cup of hot cocoa.

"I know you, Granger. You could use some excitement."

Harshly, she pointed a finger in his face. "Don't you dare--"

He grabbed her finger and pulled it, pulling her against him. "Pretend to know you? We've been through this; I do know you."

"Whatever you're looking for, Zabini, you won't find it. A good lay, a housewife, a slave, or a lover, you won't find it in me." She struggled to fight his hold, but he was too strong.

"How about a friend?" he asked modestly.

"What sort of friend?"

"Well, we can always figure that out later." A roguish smile appeared on his face.

Despite her screaming protest in her mind, she laughed. "Just watch yourself, Casanova. I'm not all I appear to be."

He laughed. "That's exactly what I'm hoping for."

Leaning in, he brushed his lips against her, but never made full contact, sending another round of goose bumps throughout her body. He pulled back and headed up the stairs and into the building.

Smirking, he called to her, "I love therapy."

She laughed despite herself and her hand found her mouth again as he ducked into the doorway and started down the hall towards the fireplace. Hermione's stomach churned and she took a deep breath. There was no way this was going to turn out well, but Blaise was right, she needed an adventure, despite the risks.

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* The quote 'I fear no colors' is from the play Twelfth Night by Shakespeare from the character Feste, the Fool. The quote means 'I fear nothing.'